


Cross-Cultural Exchange

by Blue



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue/pseuds/Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started when Thor suggested a good way for the Tau'ri to strengthen their new alliances with other races was a cross-cultural exchange wherein they would demonstrate for each other, on their own planets, some kind of native ceremony. And Jack, who has sat through a lot of crazy shit on the far side of the gate, said, "Ceremonies? Oh hell no!" and next to him Daniel's eyes had just slid closed while he appeared to be in a substantial amount of pain. Then Thor had suggested that he meant some kind of ceremony native to their culture, to their planet, and then Jack had started thinking out loud and it all went rapidly downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross-Cultural Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the wedding scene outtakes from the 200th episode and late night IM chats. This is fluffy crack fic. Or, rather, crack fic that turns surprisingly sappy. You have been warned.
> 
> Originally posted to [Livejournal November 8, 2006](http://blue-meridian.livejournal.com/67053.html).

“Carter, report.” Jack was on his stomach, peering over the ridge with his binoculars and feeling naked without at least his P90. The hard press of his Beretta holstered against his lower back was some comfort.

“The perimeter looks secure, sir.” Sam said with a sigh on his left, still scanning the slope on the far side of the valley.

“Good” Jack shifted, reached down to nudge a small stone off to one side, and went back to studying the group assembling below, “Teal’c, got anything?”

“No, I do not, O’Neill. I see only a peaceful gathering attempting to take place. Although that could change if the guests of honor fail to arrive.”

Jack scowled to his right where Teal’c was looking stone faced down into the valley, “It’s not that simple! This is _hostile territory_.”

“Hey, guys” Daniel chimed in as he ambled up in jeans and a t-shirt, take out coffee in one hand, “What’cha doin’?”

“Damn it, Daniel!” Jack hissed, reaching up to grab at his jeans and yank downward.

Daniel landed with a startled “Oomph!” and a muffled curse as he shook the coffee off his hand. “A little warning next time would be nice.” he snipped, shifting down to lay on his stomach.

“How ‘bout you don’t give away our location and we won't have to worry about a next time!”

Daniel blinked, looked down at the people below, looked at Sam, who just rolled her eyes, looked at Teal’c, who didn’t really seem all that happy, and then just let his forehead drop to the grass. “Jack, please tell me you’re not threat assessing your own wedding.”

Jack rolled onto his side to snarl out, “It is _not_ a wedding!”

Daniel lifted his head back up to take a sip of the coffee that had managed to survive the sudden descent, “Not that kind of wedding, no, but it is as far as the Asgard are concerned and they’re the organizers of this multi-race cultural exchange so that’s what counts and we’ve _had_ this argument. I’ve already won, you might remember.”

“I still don’t see-!”

“Because when our turn came up and Thor asked what kind of ceremonies we engage in, what popped out of your mouth was ‘getting married’s something most people do and it’s a ceremony, right Daniel?’.”

“But, if it’s our god damned example ceremony,” Jack’s grip on his binoculars had turned his knuckles white, “why couldn’t we at least pick someone who was actually get-“

“Security clearance” Sam snapped.

“Or at least a man and wo-“

Daniel snorted, “Because you tried to explain to an _Asgard_ about the sociological differences between a heterosexual and a homosexual relationship without making us sound like some primitive, back water planet. I would’ve been back in _two minutes_ , Jack, what the hell were you _thinking_?”

“I'm thinking now that the sneaky little bastard planned it that way.” He grumbled, “But why-“

“I believe, O’Neill,” Teal’c broke in for his turn, “you wanted them to feel as if they were part of the ceremony and therefore offered Thor the opportunity to select the participants in this demonstration.”

Jack rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands, whine emerging from behind them, “I didn’t know he was going to pick _me_ and _Daniel_.”

Daniel smirked, “Yeah, watching you explain that to Hammond, by the way, was fantastic. Especially the look on your face when he started dictating the guest list. I'm going to be reminiscing over that for _years_.”

Jack whimpered.

“Do you not wish to go through with the ceremony?” Teal’c asked, decidedly pissy.

Daniel grinned, sipped at his coffee, and watched Jack squirm. He was amused to note that on the far side, Sam seemed _very_ entertained by her c.o.'s misery, which he was pretty sure had to do with them drinking her under the table the night before and the bitch of a hangover that couldn’t possibly be gone yet.

“It’s not that, T, it’s just… hell, we’ve been over this!”

“Yes we have, O’Neill, and we have also discussed why this ceremony is important. Do you somehow find that I am to officiate such vows as inadequate or offensive?”

“No!” Jack’s hands went to scrubbing at his hair, “I am honored to have a former First Prime… officialing.”

“Then I do not see the problem.”

Jack looked ready to bolt, but the sudden ringing of his cell phone had him yelping in surprise instead. Squirming around, he managed to dig it out of the front pocket of his jeans and flip it open with a brusque, “O’Neill”

“Colonel O’Neill if you don’t haul your ass down that hillside in the next five minutes, I swear to God I’ll bust you as far back in rank as I can get away with.”

“Yes, sir. Be right down, sir.” Jack snapped the phone closed, and peered down at Hammond who was casually pocketing his own cell and strolling over to talk to the president, “I think he means it.” He sighed, “Okay, let’s go face the music.”

“Actually, you will be facing away from the music.”

“Thank you, T, that’s very helpful.”

……

It wasn’t going to be much like a real wedding, which Daniel already knew, hence the jeans and t-shirt. Once he’d ascertained the point was to offer an example of the spirit of a Tau'ri ceremony rather than a finely choreographed set of details, the whole thing had gotten interesting. The guest list was expectedly bizarre – some SGC personnel, several of the Asgard high council, a handful of Tok’ra, President Hayes, General Hammond, three representatives of the Russian stargate program, a few representatives of the Jaffa and a handful of others.

He’d been engaged in a conversation about one of the latest political spats on Langara with Jonas and Kianna, when Hammond had pulled him away and requested he babysit the president’s attempts to make small talk with the Tok’ra. Listening with one ear as Freya rattled on about historical relations between the Tok’ra and Goa’uld and how they affected the Tau'ri – half of which Daniel swore _he’d_ explained to _her_ – he let his eyes roam around and review the layout.

The location of the seats and altar were traditional, but they’d quickly run into a snag on who would officiate. Daniel had suggested it _was_ for show, but Teal’c had mentioned about then that he had, essentially, been fully capable of legalizing unions on Chulak and it turned out the First Prime was not unlike the Pope – he could officiate, he just had a lot of other things to do (“Torture, kidnap-“ and while Teal’c pointedly ignored him, Daniel had elbowed Jack in the side. Hard).

Which was how Teal’c had ended up being the one performing the thing and he’d proceeded to take it all very seriously and carefully constructed his portion of it from both Jaffa and Tau'ri customs. Daniel had then shamelessly used the leverage of being chief cultural liaison for the chance to read over the vows that Teal'c had prepared and he’d been impressed. Unnerved and pretty certain Jack was going to freak out in the middle of the ceremony, but impressed.

He’d failed to mention his little preview to Jack.

Then they’d realized that they needed place holders for what was traditionally the bridesmaids and groomsmen, and Daniel had said, “Oh, I get Sam.” Which Jack realized about a minute too late meant that all of his team members were now accounted for and he was screwed. Daniel spent a week watching him panic and try to figure out who the hell else he was going to drag into the mess (“I have never missed Jacob so much as I do right now.” Jack had said mournfully and Daniel had spent a good half hour laughing himself sick picturing the look on Jacob’s face if he were still alive). Finally, Daniel had taken pity on him, turned Sam over to Jack’s side of the aisle and commandeered Jonas, who would be visiting for the occasion. Jonas was quite pleased to assist and Daniel wondered for the millionth time how someone so perky had put up with Jack for the better part of a year.

Jack, for his part, had been much happier about the whole thing when it came up that the ‘reception’ should be another type of ceremony and that a cookout would work as an example of a common tradition. Then there had been talk of a friendly football game – limited to the Tau'ri, of course. Daniel gave the General full credit for distracting Jack with that idea right up until the human and alien dignitaries started arriving the morning of the demonstration. Well, okay, up until the night before when Jack had proceeded to have a small nervous breakdown.

The cookout and football idea, however, was what had resulted in everyone wearing casual clothes, which also helped maintain the image for the Tau'ri natives, whatever their inclination, that this was play acting and nothing more. Certainly nothing that might make them too uncomfortable. Thor had even agreed to keep his mouth shut about the fact that he’d chosen Jack and Daniel because he already knew full well they were fucking like bunnies most nights – especially after the time he’d beamed them up at a _decidedly_ inopportune moment. Daniel had handled that discussion and thought he did a pretty good job of looking nonchalant while carrying on diplomatic negotiations for several hours buck naked.

“Don’t you agree, Dr. Jackson?”

Daniel turned his attention back with a radiant smile, “I think the real question here is how you’re coming on the zatarc research and what kind of refinements you’ve made of the detector.”

Anise responded, as she now needed to remind her audience of what exactly a zatarc was in the first place in order to discuss detecting one. The sudden physical changes made President Hayes flinch and try to take a subtle step backwards. Anise glanced at Daniel and the look in her eyes said that she knew full well Daniel didn’t have a clue what the original question had been but Daniel just kept smiling. Anise liked him. He could get away with it.

……

The ceremony went fairly well given the parties involved.

Daniel was on the bride’s side of the aisle because Jack had threatened to mutiny without that concession, which he’d resorted to after the experience angle didn’t work

(“I’ve been married. I know that side.”

“So have I!”

“Daniel, you got married by _accident_. You didn’t even know about it until the next day.”

“…We had an official ceremony. Later. We _did!_ ”).

Truth be told, it wasn't an issue that really concerned Daniel, but he felt better about the universe when Jack owed him one, so he made him work for it.

During the sermon and vows portion, Sam obviously drew on some inner reserve to stay upright despite the occasional listing to port. Jonas, though, just made Daniel feel old and slow by comparison with his hyper kinetic presence bouncing around at the very edge of his vision. By a few minutes into it, Jack had started coughing at significant passages and then Daniel called him on it which had led to Teal’c breaking off to give them the evil eye. When that hadn’t worked, he’d broken off again to inform them that if they didn’t observe the occasion with proper solemnity he would be forced to take appropriate action. They hadn’t asked what appropriate action was, but they’d stopped bickering for the duration.

Rings of dark, dull gray, finely etched, refined naquadah had been exchanged, which had surprised and/or impressed everyone.

(“What the- Carter, damnit! This is probably enough to power a third world country for a few years. Or blow it up a couple times.”

“You’re exaggerating, sir. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And, no, it won’t make anything fall off.”

“…You do realize you’ve been around me too long, right?”

“Yes, sir, I most certainly do, but I was referring to your _ring finger_.”

“I knew that.”)

Daniel, in part to prove he could, had seized Jack at the end and kissed him despite the struggling. After he let go, he’d quickly danced back to safety and said, “It’s part of the ceremony, Jack, you know that.” And while Jack had sputtered and cursed, he’d retrieved his coffee from Jonas and wandered off to the side to answer any questions an amused Thor had come up with so far.

……

“So,” Jack said, walking up beside Daniel where he stood out of the way, watching the few remaining attendees, most of whom were SGC employees that would be assisting with cleanup. “We’re married now.”

Daniel snorted, smirked, just as General Hammond joined them, “Gentlemen, I think that went fairly well.”

“Oh, I think it went as well as can be expected.” Jack sighed, tilting his head back and swallowing the last of his beer. “I didn’t hear the start of any inter-species incidents, and Thor’s satisfied by our participation in the whole multi-racial species what-not exchange, so we’re covered. And in more than just mud.”

The football game had been fun despite – or maybe because of – the brief, late afternoon rain shower. The observers had watched from the safety of the pavilion while the off world teams had proceeded to beat each other senseless in a sad parody of the national pastime. By the end of it, they’d been covered head to toe with mud and grass stains, which had seemed to both fascinate and appall most of the non-Tau'ri guests. The Jaffa had been impressed, though.

“No, despite the unusual nature of the ceremonies being performed, the President was pretty happy. He gave you both credit for going the extra mile to maintain diplomatic relations under… stressful… circumstances.”

Daniel twirled one mud encrusted finger in the air, “Yay”

Jack leaned over to sniff the contents of the cup Daniel was holding, “What are you-? Jesus, how much of that stuff have you had? Don’t get too trashed, I expect you to put out on our wedding night, ya know.”

Daniel just hmm’d, fished a half-full flask out of his back pocket, and waggled it at Jack. Jack took it and went to wipe it off with his shirt, then realized that would’ve made it worse, so he swiped it halfway clean and opened it to take a healthy swallow, feeling the dried mud on his neck break into cracks and fissures. He sighed at the smoothness of the alcohol and made a note to frisk Daniel later when the source bottle had been retrieved from wherever he’d hidden it. “So, General,” he said, standing straighter to look over Daniel’s head, “does this mean we get each others survivors benefits? I mean, hell, someone should be getting Daniel’s two or three times over by now.”

Hammond patted Daniel on the back to help him clear his lungs after he bent over double, wheezing from the burn of whiskey he’d accidentally inhaled, “Really, Colonel, that was in poor taste. Besides, I’m certain Dr. Jackson has only been _declared_ dead once.”

“Really?” Jack said, “Huh. MIA the other times?”

“Yes, or the paperwork didn’t have time to go through.”

Daniel made it upright, still wheezing, and glared at them, “Fucki-“

“Eht!” Jack interrupted, gesturing with the flask, “What have I been telling you about respecting your elders?”

“I can say it in French if you’d like, Jack. French is very respectful.” Daniel’s teeth were very clean and white compared to the rest of him, “Latin? Mandarin? Abydonian?” It really was a little too much like a predator to be a smile, though.

Jack inclined his head, “S ‘kay, thanks. Think I got the idea.”

……

Hammond had left them and headed back to base soon after to make sure the last of the guests made it home through the gate. Sam had passed out in Jack’s truck bed after the football game – participating in which had made her very popular, as always, due to the usual interaction between water and cotton t-shirts – and finally re-appeared just as the last of the cleaning crew was leaving. She dropped down next to the campfire that someone had started up and Daniel was feeding with a few small logs, “My god, let’s not ever do that again.”

“Get married?” Jack said and winced when her expression implied he was a few bricks shy of a load, “Sorry, been around Daniel too long.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t blame Daniel, sir, and I was referring to last night.”

“Ah” Daniel said with a little smile.

Settling back in the folding chair he’d rescued from his truck bed as soon as Carter had vacated it, Jack said, “You didn’t have any of Skaara’s moonshine back on Abydos, did you?”

She shuddered, “No, but I could smell it.”

“See, I already knew Daniel could drink like a fish. The mistake is in trying to keep up with him. And we’re Earth side, Carter. You can pull up a chair.”

Sam started and looked around, then realized she’d sat on the ground right next to a lawn chair. She stood and sat back down in it, “Where’s Teal’c?”

“Escorting,” Jack said as Daniel settled down in the chair to his left with a sigh. “But he should be back any time. He’ll take you home, he’s got Daniel’s Jeep.”

They sat there, Jack and Daniel buzzed and Sam barely recovered, until Teal’c finally made his way back, pulling up next to Jack’s truck and killing the lights.

“Hey, T,” Jack said at the approaching footsteps, “everything good with your people?”

“Yes, everything is well with the representatives from the Jaffa nation. They were… intrigued… by Tau'ri customs. I endeavored to explain and expand upon the demonstrations of today.”

Jack tilted his head back and looked at Teal’c upside down, “They wanna’ come back for the jell-o wrestling, don’t they?”

“Indeed” Teal’c said, smirking. Sam and Daniel just groaned.

“Pull up a chair.” Jack said, still grinning and sipping at the flask he wouldn’t relinquish back to Daniel.

“Thank you, but I’ve come to make sure Major Carter makes it home.”

“Ah, good, Carter? You ready?”

“Yes, sir” she said, standing with a long stretch that displayed a wide strip of taut stomach that all three men watched with interest. “See you Monday.” She said, waving as she followed Teal’c back to the Jeep.

It was silent after the engine noise died away, and Jack and Daniel sat there just watching the fire for a while. Jack finally spoke up, “Too bad we couldn’t convince her to wear a skirt this morning. Would’ve been great for football.”

Daniel sighed, “I tried to tell her that buttons and zippers are too complicated with a hangover and it'd be so much easier to pee in a skirt. A short one."

Jack stared over at him, "Seriously?"

"Seriously it's easier to pee in a skirt or seriously I told her that?"

Jack just settled back and rubbed at his forehead, "I don't know how you get away with this shit."

Daniel kicked at the edge of a log sticking out of the fire pit and shrugged, "I said it but I wasn't serious, no. It was just funny watching her work out if it actually _was_ a good idea or not. If she had, we would've killed someone by the end of the day... after Sam kicked their ass." He smiled, "No, if I were _really_ good then you'd be wearing dress blues.”

“Oh, I think leaving them on base was for the best. It would’ve surprised just about everyone when you molested me at the altar.”

Daniel pondered that for a moment and finally said, “True”

“You, on the other hand, wore those jeans on purpose.” Jack glared over at him.

“Perhaps” Daniel had slouched down in his seat, propped up one foot, and was smirking. It wasn’t an accident they were the ones he’d been wearing when Jack had gone down on him and fucking blown him _through_ the jeans before he even got around to unbuttoning and unzipping them with his teeth. He had every intention of repaying the torture at some point.

That had been the night before last, though. Last night had been reserved for Jack's minor meltdown, the murky causes of which, Daniel suspected, had little to do with the non-existant military protocol for throwing a mock wedding between two men of high civilian and military rank attached to a top secret military installation - all for the benefit of visiting leaders of several alien races.

But he didn't really think it was the time to get into it when Jack called him at 7 pm and started raving about how it was all a Very Bad Idea and how it was sounding like a Very Good Idea to sneak in and sabotage the gate so the whole thing would have to be called off. Daniel had suggested it was a Much Better Idea to stay put until he got there to help load up the truck for their run to the border afterwards

("Because I speak Spanish a lot better than you do."

"The _Canadian_ border, Daniel."

"So, what, you speak Inuktitut?"

"Okay, that's just- Do _you_?"

" _tautugniaqmiġikpiñ_ , Jack." Daniel had said, hanging up the phone and closing down the French-Inuktitut translation webpage. He just loved extra-high-speed internet access).

So Daniel had headed out and called Sam from his cell on the way down the mountain. By the time he'd gotten to Jack's house and convinced him that if any gate sabotage were to take place then they really should wait for Sam, she'd arrived with Teal'c, tequila, Tecate, and Mexican take out. Jack had been surprised when she walked in ("Jesus, Carter - it's a school night! And how many times do I have to say it? The _Canadian_ border.") but he'd gone for the strip poker suggestion fast enough. Daniel had nixed that one right away, though. Sam applied military strategy and counted cards on the side while Jack just had a damn good poker face; they would've had Daniel out of his clothes as fast as usual, which just got to be annoying after a while.

They'd ended up playing Quarters and within an hour they were drunk enough to not be doing anything other than working on staying that way. Sam had held out a surprisingly long time though, and it’d been going on 2 am before she passed out on the couch, Teal'c having long abandoned them to try and get some rest in the spare room.

Inebriation, stress, and the safety of knowing that even the unconscious people in the room were dead loyal had led to Daniel suggesting they practice for the ceremony, which had led to making out on the floor. Then to stumbling into Jack’s bedroom and attempting to have quiet sex despite a prohibitively high level of alcohol in their respective bloodstreams. They had paused to consider about then that it probably wasn’t one of their better ideas, but their dicks had overruled any sane judgments and after they’d come all over each other, they’d just dropped right off sleep.

They’d woken to very quiet, very evil little snickers that turned out to be coming from a _very_ pale Sam leaning in from the hallway, door as wide open as when they’d tripped through it the night before, “You two are soooooo lucky I’m way too hung over to embarrass the hell out of you right now.” Then her eyes had gone wide and she'd whimpered before turning and stumbling down to the guest bathroom to throw up a few major organs.

After a couple hours of that entertainment, they’d made themselves respectable enough 

(“Had my hair cut yesterday.” Jack had announced proudly.

Daniel had rolled his eyes, “Pretty hard to miss – you were maybe going for the Asgard look?”

“It’s not _that_ short.”

“No, no, of course not. Silly me.”),

left it up to Teal’c to finish sobering up Sam, and headed for the mountain. All in all, Daniel was just glad the day was over and everyone was still alive.

He yawned, standing up and folding the chair he’d been sitting on, “So, are you carrying me across the threshold?”

Jack winced, “I smacked Sara’s head on the door frame.” He stood up, gathered up his chair, and handed it to Daniel to stow away while he went about putting out the fire.

“See?” Daniel snickered, “I keep telling you that tents have their advantages. Big tents, anyway.”

Jack followed him back to the truck, “Sand, Daniel, _sand_.”

“Point taken. So, blow job?”

“Not in public, Daniel. Not even when there’s no public around in public.”

“How about Cimmarron and Limit? That’s close enough, right?”

“No, damnit!”

“…’kay. Kitchen?”

Jack’s hand paused, key halfway in the ignition, and turned to look at Daniel who was all wide eyed innocence on the other side of the cab, “You do this to me on purpose, don’t you?”

“Depends” he said, and the innocence slipped off to show the coyote beneath even as he bent down and rummaged under the seat, “does it work?” He sat back up, bringing with him a very old, very expensive bottle of whiskey that was… completely full. Jack cocked an eyebrow and Daniel gave him a cheeky grin, “Wedding present, as long as you share.”

“Do we need to have a little chat about extending the life of our livers?”

Daniel reached behind the seat and pulled up a jacket to wrap the bottle in, “Not tonight, Jack, Jesus, and it’s not that kind of whiskey. Besides, I had other things in mind for tonight.”

“Ah, well then, my place okay?” Jack said, knowing full well he was going to have to wake Daniel up to drag him in the house.

Daniel didn’t answer, just nodded, sighed, and let his head roll back against the seat as the classical on the radio and the rhythm of the tires lulled him to sleep.

Jack flicked a glance over at him as they rolled into the outskirts and then down at his hand where the naquadah ring, inscribed with the same curved lines that appeared on the gate, still rested. They’d left them on for the evening, as much so they didn’t go missing as anything else (hard to explain when someone found one and took it in to the local jeweler, who would probably be curious when they couldn't even figure out what the fuck it was made of). They’d take them off tonight and Monday they’d take them to their offices at the SGC and put them away somewhere behind all that high security. But Sam had done good and the naquadah, the inscribing – they were wildly appropriate, like little gates: Symbols of how they’d been linked for a while now, tangled up in something beyond sex or friendship, something between love and fate.

But as scary as it had been to be wearing a wedding ring again, no matter why, he'd felt even weirder about going through the ceremony. At least they hadn’t been in tuxes, and Thor hadn’t gone for truly warped and suggested he mock-marry someone else, like Sam, which would’ve been more than Jack could take. He liked to think that after eight years he’d moved on, and he _had_ , but he’d been pretty damn certain the first time around that it was the only time and the fact that he’d screwed it up still burned. He’d been invested in Daniel, one way or another, for all that time and he wouldn’t trade him for anyone or anything, but standing there at the altar in what felt like a bad sci-fi movie, that old failure had been eating away at inside of his ribcage.

Then Sam had pulled out those damn rings and he'd been really fucking surprised, so of course he’d bitched at her but she’d just rolled her eyes and laughed at him and Daniel had been fascinated like the things were ten thousand years old instead of brand new. Then Teal’c had gotten them back on track with what they were there to do and by the time Daniel had slid one on Jack’s finger, saying some Chulak/Earth hybrid of wedding vows for the benefit of their audience, it’d all been okay. It'd just been about _belonging_ again, come Hell or high water, come life or death - and Daniel had never let a little thing like dying stop him. 

So he’d take it off tonight, and he’d stash it away on Monday, and he probably wouldn’t see it again until he stumbled across it and remembered where it was. Or maybe he’d give it to Daniel to keep, both the rings nestled up together in a special little box on a quiet corner of one of his bookshelves, and they’d both know where they were even if they never saw them. He'd still feel it - the hard, solid stone already replacing the faded memory of thin, featherweight gold - and think of it every time he stepped through the gate.

In the meantime, though, he’d wear it. Just for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually _forgot I wrote this_ until I found it while going back through and making sure all my recs from the dawn of time were appropriately bookmarked and tagged. There's a snippets collection I know is buried somewhere, too, that I may transfer over for safe keeping as well. Once I find it anyway.


End file.
